


brilliant gorgeous and ampersand after ampersand

by alrightyaphrvdite



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Jon Snow and Sansa Stark Are Not Related, Texting, The Bachelorette - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:07:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23614951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alrightyaphrvdite/pseuds/alrightyaphrvdite
Summary: in which jon snow ruins the bachelorette
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Jon Snow/Sansa Stark, Robb Stark/Margaery Tyrell
Comments: 10
Kudos: 185





	brilliant gorgeous and ampersand after ampersand

**Author's Note:**

> hello. i wrote this little fic ages ago. and given what's going on, figured its a good time to post something people can read at home. not sure if this fandom still exsists, but we'll see
> 
> i know the bachelor/bachelorette franchise has problems, but it's one of my guilty pleasures
> 
> i hope this brings everyone some silly fun
> 
> (song title from I Don't Believe You by The Magnetic Fields)

**Jimmy Kimmel Live! May 14th, 9:00PM**

Jimmy Kimmel: Your season is being advertised as the most shocking in Bachelorette history. 

Sansa: Something like that. My older brother says it’s making him stress-eat oreos. But he does that anyway.

Jimmy: Your family really doesn’t know how it ends?

Sansa: Only my sister. And my parents. We thought it would be better to wait for everyone else.

Jimmy: We? So I can assume that you did in fact leave with someone.

Sansa: Well, I had a seatmate on the flight home. How’s that for a spoiler?

Jimmy: Can’t you give us a little something more? For your close friend Jimmy?

Sansa: And the millions watching?

Jimmy: Yes, and the millions of close personal friends watching tonight.

Sansa: Okay, okay all I can say is that the person I leave with, he’s going to ruin everyone’s brackets.

Jimmy: So I shouldn’t put money on this season?

Sansa: I don’t recommend it.

**Arya & Sansa Stark’s Living Room. July 8th, 7:55PM**

“It’s nearly starting!” Someone, likely Margarey, shouts from the living room. Sansa nearly spilling a glass of wine at the commotion.

“Shit. One second!” She hollers back, balancing three wine glasses and a beer bottle in her arms. “I was there! I can miss the first five minutes.”

“But I need my wine,” is the sweet reply, as Sansa re-enters from the kitchen, handing off glasses of red to Margaery and Theon, keeping the last glass and the IPA for herself and Jon.

Careful not to slosh the wine, she settles onto the loveseat, feet immediately propped on Jon’s lap. If his hands settle on her calves, well, it’s the natural place for them to go. “We don’t have to watch this every week,” Sansa remarks, sipping from her glass. Thank the gods for wine, or their weekly ritual of watching her season would be taking a toll. Last season was easier. With so many women, the focus hadn’t been on her, and she could share all the behind the scenes drama they missed. But this one. All about her and the twenty something men vying for her affections and their mutual journey to love. Much harder to stomach.

She smiles softly as Jon gives her foot a squeeze.

“Of course we do,” Margarey scoffs, cradling her own glass of wine from where she sat curled around Robb. “We’re being supportive.”

“And trying to figure out who in the hell you end up with since you won’t fucking tell us. I’ve got fifty on Parker, so do a girl a favor.” Yara winks in her direction, and Sansa laughs. 

“Sorry,” she chimes, knowing the general frustration of the room. “The producers wanted desperately to keep it a secret this year, and none of you can keep a secret.” An offended scoff sounds. “Sorry. Except for Arya, who moonlights in covert ops on holidays.”

Her sister smirks from her spot on her floor. A splotch of pizza sauce slowly dribbling down her chin. This is why Sansa bought the extra strength carpet cleaner. “Damn straight. That’s why I know how it ended.” That and Arya threatened to revisit her angry punk music phase from middle school if she didn’t spill. Sansa could not handle any more late night blasts of Welcome to the Black Parade. 

A quiet,  _ I do too _ , has Arya’s head whipping around. “You do not, Bran. Shut the fuck up.” Gendry’s heavy hand lands on Arya’s shoulder, preventing the massacre to follow.

**Arya Stark to Bran Stark:** who then

**Bran Stark to Arya Stark:** i can’t reveal my sources

**Arya Stark to Stark Wars:** how many times was bran dropped on his head as child?

**Robb Stark to Stark Wars:** at least three times

**Sansa Stark to Stark Wars:** all robb

**Robb Stark to Stark Wars:** sorry bran

**Arya Stark to Star Wars:** fuck that, apologize to me

  
**Jon Snow to Sansa Stark:** you didn’t tell bran did you?

**Sansa Stark to Jon Snow:** no… why?

**Jon Snow to Sansa Stark:** i think he’s winking at me

“I can’t believe you did the show in the first place,” Robb grumbles. “And that I, your eldest and most important brother, have to endure the literal torture of your makeouts with a parade of men.”

She pivots in the direction of the armchair, lips pursing, before she hears Jon’s reply. “It’s okay to cover your eyes during the scary parts, Robb.” Sansa cuts sticking her tongue out at Robb short to tug on Jon’s shirt sleeve in quiet thanks. His answering smile a reminder of how stunning this all turned out to be, how worth it. 

“At least you don’t have to see her having sex, although that one scene, by the beach with Charlie…” Theon begins fanning himself dramatically. The following “shut it, Theon,” comes from several directions.

“Anyway,” Margarey cuts in, “this whole experience gave our dear Sansa great connections for the magazine. Which is why I nominated her in the first place.” She seems to think for a second. “Oh, and for true love, naturally.”

“A toast to true love,” Theon crows and everyone raises their glass.

“At least the first guy, what was his name?” 

“Podrick,” Margarey supplies.

“Thanks, babe-” Robb continues, “at least he wasn’t a total prick.”

“Pod was very sweet,” Sansa agrees. She can’t say she ever felt the burning passion for him that she conveyed on the show - they played scrabble in their fantasy suite - but she genuinely enjoyed spending time with the man.

“You would’ve eaten him alive,” Arya drawls and receives a shrug of agreement. Pod ended up with Sadie, a natural giggler and believer in fate. Sansa had stopped being a giggler after her disastrous highschool boyfriend. As for fate… she glances in Jon’s direction. Action has a better track record.

“Everyone better have their drink of choice because it’s starting.” Margarey hushes the room, eyes intent on the television screen, cheering when Sansa’s face flashes across it.

“Which episode is it again?”

“Fantasy suites, final three.”

Robb boos. Arya cranes her neck back, a knowing look thrown in her and Jon’s direction.

“Quiet,” Margarey hisses.

**Entertainment Tonight. June 4th, 7:30PM**

Interviewer: So, we have our wine.

Sansa: And thank you so much for it! If I’ve learned anything from this process, it’s that everything is better with wine.

Interviewer: Yes, I heard it’s a staple of your viewing parties.

Sansa: Helps me survive my brothers’ jokes.

Interviewer: Was that brothers? Plural?

Sansa: Three of them. Plus my sister. I think my youngest brother is behind all the memes...

Interviewer: You seem happy though. Dare I say, you’re glowing.

Sansa: I am. I really am. I had so much fun on Pod’s season, but I never thought I would leave this entire journey as happy, as content as I am.

**Arya & Sansa Stark’s Living Room. July 8th, 8:37PM**

“Two down one to go.” The first two suites passed uneventfully. All those related to her in the room covered their eyes for the majority, but editing made the entire affair look much steamier than it was. When production arrived in Greece, everyone from the producers to the camera men to the contestants knew she was picking Parker. She really did screw Yara out of that fifty dollars.

“Tell me when it’s safe to look,” Robb mumbles, his face pressed into Margarey’s shoulder. This is why he was conveniently on a business trip any time production wanted to meet her eldest brother.

“Gods. If you ever want someone less dramatic, Marg, you’ve got my number.” Robb lets out an indignant  _ oi _ as Margaery (and Sansa and Theon and Gendry) cheer. Yara’s comment all the funnier because neither of the Greyjoys are known for their stoic reactions. No, that honor belongs to the man beside her. Catching herself looking at him, again, she sighs. She is such a hopeless sap.

“Talking during commercial breaks only.” The volume on the tv climbs.

“Not sure why either of you would want to date that one,” Theon mutters right as Gendry, bless his heart, notices what’s happening on the screen.

“Wait, wait, is that? Is that Jon?”

**Jon Snow to Sansa Stark:** do you reckon i’m about to be a little dead or thrown in a ditch dead

**Sansa Stark to Jon Snow:** ??? 

**Sansa Stark to Jon Snow:** you said he was cool with it

**Sansa Stark to Jon Snow:** that he gave you this whole speech and made you watch hercules for inspiration

**Jon Snow to Sansa Stark:** he did but. fuck. i just really want this to work out

**Sansa Stark to Jon Snow:** this is working out

**Sansa Stark to Jon Snow:** now cheer up buttercup. else they’ll think i’m making you miserable

**Jon Snow to Sansa Stark:** only sometimes

**Sansa Stark to Jon Snow:** maybe i should see if parker is still single...

There’s a sharp pinch to her thigh, and Sansa presses a hand to her mouth, stifling her laughter. It’s all on the tip of her tongue. The happiness from the past few months, the relief that everyone will finally know. Every time Marg asked her why she looked so suspiciously happy, Sansa had to think of an excuse. Her last one had been Rachel Bilson. Just Rachel Bilson, no other explanation. The secrecy had to end.

Robb is the first to pick up on it, watching as who appears to be his best friend gives what appears to be an ITM on a show he, for all intents and purposes, never went on. “Jon. Jon Fucking Snow. What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m sitting here.” Sansa can hear Jon’s grin.

“Not now you, ass. Then, there! What’re you doing?”

“Watch the damn episode and find out.” His words turn their attention back to the screen. And now that they’ve all quieted, Sansa can hear what a very flustered, very televised Jon has to say. Words she herself heard in person later that day. And the weeks following. And just this morning as they lay in bed. “ _ Beep _ , this is rotten timing. But I’ve been in love with her the past four years now…”

**Margaery Tyrell to Sansa Stark:** you know what’s amazing?

**Sansa Stark to Margaery Tyrell:** keep it pg13 please

**Margaery Tyrell to Sansa Stark:** that those razor adds show the women shaving their big toes

**Margaery Tyrell to Sansa Stark:** i’ve never felt more understood

**Sansa Stark to Margaery Tyrell:** huh. so not my newly achieved level of orgasm?

**Margaery Tyrell to Sansa Stark:** i care about things other than your sex life

**Margaery Tyrell to Sansa Stark:** i have depth

**Sansa Stark to Margaery Tyrell:** did you just send Jon a Gilmore Girls gif?

**Margaery Tyrell to Sansa Stark:** he is the wind beneath my wings

**Set of the Bachelorette - Athens, Greece. May 2nd, 7:27AM**

The stylist runs a brush through Sansa’s hair and her eyes close. Anxieties about the night ahead scrolling through her mind. Charlie, Tyler… fantasy finished, suite satisfied. Two excellent nights of sleep. She wouldn’t say she was saving herself for Parker, but, of course, it was clearly going to be Parker at the end of this thing. This journey, as one might say. She’d send Tyler home, then Charlie, Parker would get down on one knee, and the yes would slip from her lips. The tears would stream down her face. If she doesn’t feel overwhelmed with desire at the thought of it, well, it’s bound to come with time. Maybe after seeing his morning hair.

A knock at the door shakes her from her wandering thoughts. A producer showing someone in. At first she thinks its Robb. Production’s way of adding some drama, her beloved older brother coming to convince her she was too young for marriage. But then she takes in the dark clothing, the darker hair, and her brow furrows. What in the hell is Jon Snow -a man you practically have to blackmail to take a picture- doing here?

**Arya & Sansa Stark’s Living Room. July 8th, 9:02PM**

“So you mean to tell me. That the two of you. Have been dating the past three months and haven’t told any of us?”

“Arya knew.”

“As did I.”

“Piss off, Bran. You did not.”

“Way to keep a secret,” Gendry fist bumps his smirking girlfriend.

“And that,” Robb raises his voice, talking over the others with his big brother tone and big brother glare, “Jon, went on this stupid as fuck show to profess his love for you, Sansa. And Sansa, who was meant to leave engaged to one of those idiots,” he gestures to the screen, “professes her own secret, forbidden-” 

“It’s not forbidden,” Margaery whispers. Robb ignores her. “Professes her own forbidden love. And leaves with you, Jon Snow.”

Sansa shares a look with Jon before replying, “Yes, I suppose that’s accurate. But-”

Robb cuts her off before she can continue. “No, let me say this.”

“Oh here it comes,” Theon mutters. Theon would actually make a vaguely decent reality show host, Sansa muses.

“I am so happy for you both.” Robb grins before rushing the love seat, sloppingly falling on them both. Sansa hears the loud smack as her brother kisses her boyfriend on the cheek, and maybe it’s the wine, but she feels suspiciously teary eyed. Everyone grins and smiles and laughs as Theon sputters. 

Seconds later, after Robb has slid to the floor in front of them, he pats Sansa’s knee. “I expect an appropriately weepy thank you at your future nuptials for telling Jon to get off his ass and tell you how he feels.”

“Technically, we didn’t leave engaged,” Sansa comments even as gratitude colors her tone. They all give Robb shit, the most shit, but he always comes through when it counts. 

“Yet, dear sister, yet.” Robb replies as he places a hand over his eyes, shielding himself from the continued on screen affection. And real life affection, Sansa supposes, as she leans into Jon for a kiss, a smile on her lips as he runs a hand through her hair.

Must remember to buy him roses. So many roses.

**Sansa Stark to Margaery Tyrell:** i owe you brunch

**Sansa Stark to Margaery Tyrell:** mimosas

**Sansa Stark to Margaery Tyrell:** and details

**Margaery Tyrell to Sansa Stark:** THANK YOU

**Margaery Tyrell to Sansa Stark:** i accept this rose

**Theon Greyjoy to Jon Snow:** where’s my apology

**Jon Snow to Theon Greyjoy:** sorry you’re an asshole

**Theon Greyjoy to Jon Snow:** BECAUSE last weekend, i asked why you no longer looked like someone wanked into your cheerios and you told me to fuck off

**Theon Greyjoy to Jon Snow:** tell me i’m perceptive

**Arya Stark to Stark Wars:** sansa snow??

**Sansa Stark to Stark Wars:** stop that

**Arya Stark to Stark Wars:** jon stark

**Bran Stark to Stark Wars:** catchy

**After The Final Rose. July 15th, 8:47PM**

Chris Harrison: Jon, I promise the camera won’t bite. You can come out from behind Sansa.

Jon Snow: This is how we sit normally. Like all the time.

Sansa Stark: Yes, we’re really into the attached at the hip aesthetic.

Jon: It’s for the fans.

Chris: And you do have fans. Despite your unorthodox ending, everyone really seems to be rooting for you both. Were you worried at all? About the potential backlash?

Sansa: Maybe for a second? But the minute I saw Jon walk onto set, I knew I couldn’t leave with anyone else. The show’s all about finding love, and I had already found mine.

Jon: You just didn’t know it yet.

Sansa: No, I think I knew. Deep down and all that cheesy rot. And if you had just said something before I left…

Jon: Or if you had said something before you left…

Sansa: Then the whole country wouldn’t see your pretty face.

Chris: And what a shame that would be. So what can you tell us about the future? Any big plans in store?

Sansa: Tell him about the closest space I cleared for you.

Jon: Three hangers all to myself. I have never felt more loved.

Sansa: Oh, it’s at least twenty. It’s not like you have that much anyway. Black t-shirt, grey t-shirt, black jacket, grey jacket, oh look something in blue…

Jon: Thought you loved me in black.

Sansa: I do. I really do.


End file.
